


The Value of Life

by liamthebastard



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-25 17:16:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1656245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liamthebastard/pseuds/liamthebastard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a whole lot of Stony fluff. Sometimes, I really need them to cuddle and be cute and domestic with all the other Avengers, and this is where I go to make that happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Groceries

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by the Captain America quote "Because a weak man knows the value of strength, of the value of power." And I thought, what would Steve value, and more than anything else, I think he values life. And these stories show how and why.

The first couple times it happens, Tony ignores it. So Steve comes home with an arm full of groceries –and for a supersoldier, an arm full is like an entire cart’s worth – maybe he’d just been near a market. But around time ten, it starts to get suspicious. JARVIS still orders all their groceries, gets it delivered, and has it put away, Steve shouldn’t be running out of ingredients this often, especially not with that meal schedule he’s got worked up and posted on the fridge so everyone knows the meals a week in advance (so Natasha knows when to get home on time if she wants any of Bruce’s coxinhas and Thor knows when not to fill up on Pop-Tarts). Essentially, there is no reason for Steve to be making weekly trips to the farmer’s market when perfectly fine, _yes organic dammit Bruce_ , groceries are being regularly delivered.

So when Tony gets up one morning, abnormally early by his standards, and creeps into the kitchen for coffee, trying not to be too loud or Natasha will actually castrate him, he’s pretty sure she meant it the last time, and see Steve staring into the fridge with a pen in one hand and pad of lined paper in the other, he has to ask. 

“Steve… w’tr don?” he asks, and it comes out a little slurred because hey, no coffee yet. Steve quirks and eyebrow and slides him his own mug, letting Tony drink it before having him try again. “What’re you doing?” he repeats, coffee now gone. Steve still takes it with _way_ too much sugar and milk, but he says he likes the luxury of it, so Tony lets it slide without too much teasing.

“I’m making a grocery list,” Steve says, closing the fridge. He always hates leaving it open for more than a few seconds, that old war-time mindset telling him to conserve everything as much as possible, and Tony might find it the tiniest bit endearing. 

Tony leans over to peek at the list. Steve’s handwriting is neat, quick, and to the point. He abbreviates in some places, but Tony’s able to figure most of it out. “You know JARVIS does all that, right?” Tony checks. “He inventories and orders according to usage and what we have planned. He even buys the Pop-Tarts in bulk, we’ve got a deal with Kellogg now so we can get them in bulk straight from the factory.”  
Steve shrugs, scribbling out where he’s got _PT_ written on the list. “I like doing it,” is all he says at first, but Tony wriggles a finger into his side to prompt something more. “I like… I like contributing, ok?” Steve finally says, pushing Tony’s finger away but catching his hand around the pen. 

The inventor presses a kiss to their hands. “And cooking six nights out of seven isn’t? You lead us, you keep us together, Steve. You don’t need to do groceries too just to contribute,” Tony insists. Steve flushes, his cheeks going pink and that, that _is_ adorable, no shame. Shame is vastly overrated, and Steve-blushes are certified the cutest thing ever. So yeah, Tony completely loses the thread of his thoughts for a minute while Steve’s ears turn red, but once Steve speaks again he grabs back on.

“It’s not just contributing… I just like it. There’s so much _more_ food now, more varieties, more color. It’s nice, to be able to go into a store, and get anything. I never have to decide between milk and eggs, and I can get fruit from everywhere, without worrying about what’s in season,” Steve explains, squeezing Tony’s fingers and looking away shyly. 

Tony’s heart squeezes with _something_ as Steve speaks. He starts nodding. “Okay. You want me to shift it so JARVIS doesn’t order anything but the Pop-Tarts anymore?” he asks.

Steve blushes again. “No, no you don’t have to do that-” he starts, but Tony shushes him. 

“I know I don’t have to, but if you’re doing the shopping, we might as well have JARVIS doing something else, right?” Tony points out. Steve nods, finally agreeing. “Got that, J? Steve’s in charge of groceries from here on in,” Tony says, raising his voice a bit. 

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS acknowledged. “Would you like me to continue your coffee orders as well?”

Tony laughs. “Yeah, you better,” he says, leaning in and kissing Steve’s cheek. “Even a supersoldier couldn’t keep up with my coffee consumption.”

“Let’s pour you another mug then,” Steve chuckles, reaching for the pot. “Before this one wears off.”


	2. Who kills the spiders?

“Steve! Steeeeeeeeeve!” 

Tony’s voice breaks into Steve’s focus and the soldier looks up from his sketchbook. “Yeah, Tones?” Steve asks. Tony’s only three feet away, but he’s acting weird. He’s perching on the edge of his workbench like Clint likes to sometimes, and is staring at the ground in blind terror. 

“Steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve! Spider! Kill it!” Tony shouts. 

“Tony, it’s just a spider. Peter plays with them all the time,” Steve says, standing and stretching before walking to stand behind Tony. “I think you can manage squishing – holy crap that thing is _huge_!” 

And it was, gigantic and fuzzy with long legs and just generally _gross_. Steve’s stomach flips over as it scuttles towards them, and suddenly he’s up on the bench alongside Tony.

The inventor grins up at him. “It’s just a spider, Steve,” Tony mocks, and Steve gives him a playful shove, just enough to threaten to tip him over but not enough to quite do it. 

“I’m starting to see your point,” Steve concedes, “but we can’t just kill it, Peter would never forgive us.”

“Yeah, I know… but how would he even find out?”

“You know he would. He _always_ does,” Steve reminds him. Peter’s “spidey sense” was a gigantic pain, honestly, but it was useful in a fight. 

“J, page Nat, tell her there’s an emergency in the lab and we need her help,” Tony finally says. 

Steve groans. “Are we seriously calling Natasha to kill a spider for us?”

Tony shrugs. “Peter won’t be mad at her, and she’s scarier than us anyway, the spider might just die of fright.”

Steve has to agree on that, even if Natasha makes fun of them for weeks afterward.


End file.
